


Neon Guide

by Phoenexus



Series: Defector [2]
Category: Jackscepticeye - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, F/M, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 22:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10581192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenexus/pseuds/Phoenexus
Summary: “Mark Fischbach. You are under arrest and shall be escorted back to the Above immediately.”“For what?”“For the murder of miss Amy Nelson.”Mark finds himself in a pickle as he tries to pick up the pieces of his now ruined life as well as the plane he has just crashed. He wanders into the town and wonders where his life will take him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I couldn't stop myself from writing it a day after the first chapter was complete, despite having other things to do. Whoopsies. I think it's worth it though, I hope you agree.  
> Oh and Jack finally makes an appearance, so yay!

It was afternoon when Mark woke up. His head was throbbing in pain. He reached upwards, only to feel dried blood on his forehead. He probably looked like a wreck, but so did the plane behind him.

He climbed to his feet slowly with a grunt of pain. His body had been battered so much in the past week or so and he was surprised he could still move and walk back over to the plane to gather his belongings. Yet he does it all and not even that slowly.

He started walking away toward the distant town that he thankfully missed when he crashed. Imagine if he caused more death? More than he had by working in the Above. This thought caused Mark to wince, so he pushed it away. He had bigger things to worry about, like what was he going to do or say to the people in the town? Furthermore, what would his future look like down here?

He hadn’t been to the Below since he graduated from school and took the first job application he received. At the top of his class, it was only fair to take the first one out of the sea of the many offers he had been sent. This choice changed his life forever, into something he never would’ve guessed in a million years.. He wouldn’t have made as much money or met such a wonderful girl like…

Mark found himself stopping his tracks.

What was he doing? This was madness! This was insanity in the flesh.

How could he drop everything to go galavanting away to a land that he was once opposed to, would fight against in order to preserve his way of life. Not to mention the fact that if he knew Amy, she would’ve wanted him to continue on and…No.

Knowing her, she would’ve supported his decision. Hell, if she were alive and knew about that bomb, she would’ve joined him. Thoughts like these allowed Mark to continue walking.

He had money thankfully, so when he arrived in main street, he turned to the nearest store that had food. Blather Bookworks was a quaint little building that advertised the “best cinnamon rolls in all of the Below” and in parentheses it said “the Above too probably”. Mark smirked at that. He began to move towards the entrance. Mark collided with another person as he turned his head to face the door.

“Sorry,” He apologized with a smile. “You okay?”

The other guy was on the ground, despite Mark not moving fast to get into the store. He must have been in a dreadful hurry and began to get up on his own despite the hand Mark was offering to him.

“My apologies,” The other man muttered under his breath without directly looking at Mark.

The guy was striking. Handsome in a pretty, yet tough and rugged way. He had a crooked nose roughly bandaged, cracked lips from the heat and flushed cheeks. He wore green and gold goggles to hide the fact that his neon green hair hadn’t been brushed properly recently.

The guy gave him a sharp glance with his icy blue eyes, cool, collected yet tense with a sense of urgency trying to be hidden. Mark’s intrigued. Before he can make conversation with him, the guy was off like a flash, heading away with a swish of his leather jacket.

No matter. Mark has other things to worry about. So he simply continued into the shop and was attacked by a wave of air conditioner. How relaxing and comforting since the desert heat had been suffocating. Mark had taken off his black cape and maroon scarf earlier, despite the fact that he would be recognized by any of Tyler’s soldiers that would be looking for him. It was simply too hot for dark colors.

Mark ordered a nice iced coffee and dared to try one of their famous cinnamon rolls. He took a seat in the back close to the instruction section of the bookstore and began to eat. They really were the best cinnamon rolls he had ever tasted.

Once finished, Mark looked over at the books around him, trying to see if there was something on planes. Hopefully he could repair the plane or at least learn how to fly one in case someone did try to attack him. He figured that the town had some planes stored away somewhere that he could steal if he had to.

That made him feel guilty. He had taken so much from the Below, as everyone had in the Above. They even had taken the land that the Below walked on.

Once upon a time, the Above had been the Below as well. But when the ground became dangerous with unpredictable weather and new threats each and every day, the richest people took the land and carved it up so that they could lift parts of the ground into the sky.

It was recent too. Mark’s great grandfather had helped with building these floating islands in the sky. They all varied in size, some holding entire cities, some holding just a large building, like the one Mark had been on. They were beautiful, covered in trees and grass and were dreams to live in.

And that caused him to feel guilty. He knew life in the Below was difficult. There weren’t as many threats as there were when the Above was created, but there were still storms and now there was violence everywhere you turned due to the rebellious outbursts.

The first rebels had appeared only a decade after there was a physical separation between the rich and the poor. It started with little uprisings, then they grew and grew until it seemed that at least half of the large mass that made up the Below was crying out and fighting for their rights. Mark felt for them, but what could he do?

At least I’m preventing more death, He thought to himself. By being down here, looking at this instruction manual for a plane. As far as he knew, the bomb couldn’t be made without him because he was the most trusted and highest ranking engineer up there by a long shot.

With the coffee and cinnamon roll finished and the instruction manual bought, Mark thanked the barista and exited the building.

By now there was a beautiful streak of orange in the sky that had once been the sun and darker colors had begun to appear. The air would only be this hot for an hour longer, maybe less. The nights were freezing down here and Mark was thankful for his darker clothes.

Mark peered around the town and his eyes caught an inn. It was across the way in a tall modern house with many windows. It looked nice, simple and it would do seeing that there was no where else to go. He should just settle in, get a room, then think of his future down here.

So he began to walk forward and opened the door with ease into the lobby. It was once again cool inside, but instead of comforting him, the coldness shocked his nerves as did the people inside. Mark froze in place as his eyes locked onto the soldiers sitting on the couch having iced tea who had turned to him as he entered. They jumped to their feet.

“Mark Fischbach,” One spoke with a haughty voice and obvious urgency. “You are under arrest and shall be escorted back to the Above immediately.”

“For what?” Mark gritted his teeth and wondered if he could outrun them if he tried to escape into the town or into the desert. He’d only been to one part of the town, maybe the rest was a maze of complicated streets? He could hope and maybe he wouldn’t have to brave the desert.

“For the murder of miss Amy Nelson,” The soldier said as another two moved towards Mark.

“But I didn’t murder her!” Mark cried out in anguish. “That was-” A whack of a baton hit his stomach, causing him to stop short. Fuck. The pain of the beating a week ago, the crash and now this; it all erupted into flames in his body causing him to cry out completely. However it didn’t stop.

The two soldiers were strong and whoever had once been in the lobby had escaped back to their rooms or into the streets. No one was there to save him.

A fist met his face, cracking his jaw. Mark tried to block but was too slow as the other side of his face was punched as well.

He was on the ground now and someone was on top of him, pounding their fist into his face and into the warm blood pooling out of his nose and cut lips. Mark sputtered out blood and moved his head away.

“Stop,” He whispered barely. It didn’t stop, but the soldier on top of him did stand. With one final move, he gave a sharp kick into Mark’s side causing him to screech loudly. There was definitely a broken rib in there.

Beaten, broken and bleeding all over the place, Mark’s body was crumpled on the floor. He moved his legs so that they covered his stomach in an attempt to protect whatever was left in his body. 

The soldiers had stepped away for a moment, no doubt to discuss how to take him up there or maybe to wonder what Mark had done with the stolen plane. They weren’t directly looking at Mark, so this was his last chance. He began to move after a fraction of a second.

Slowly at first, but suddenly he felt a burst of adrenaline, an urge to live. For Amy, for himself and for everyone he could help in the future. He knew the plans for the bomb, he could warn someone. This motivation was all he needed to launch himself off the ground and towards the door.

He was fast for someone with a broken rib cage and face that was bleeding all over the place. He couldn’t see well, but his legs worked and his legs would save him.

He was out the door and running to his right down the mostly empty streets with bright neon signs in the darkness of night. Neon pinks, blues, reds and oranges guided his journey off and away.

It was short lived as Mark heard a gunshot and then felt pain erupt. His leg! He collapsed to the ground as the shouting and thundering of soldiers took the street.

Pain.

Pain.

So much pain.

People around him fled with sharp exclaims, not bothering to help out. Mark couldn’t blame them, for he was a stranger and the people chasing him were from the Above. With their military garment, black with heavy masks and white, deadly guns, he wouldn’t have dared to mess with them unless it was absolutely necessary. Right now, for his freedom, it was.

He hadn’t expected for someone to come to his aid.

Yet there was someone stepping over him towards the guards with rushed and determined steps. He had a gun in his gloved hand and was firing relentless ahead of him. One dead, two dead and maybe a third if Mark counted correctly. The pain was taking a toll on his vision.

“How and why the fuck did you anger these fuckers?” The guy said to Mark as he fired again. Mark would’ve responded, but the bullet in his leg was preventing his vocal chords from working. Instead, he just opened and closed his mouth like a fish gasping for air. Maybe he was gasping for air also.

The guy seemed to understand with a sharp nod and returned to focusing his attention on the people in front of him who were now closer. Finally, in a last ditch effort, the guy threw his gun down and landed a kick into the stomach of the closest and last soldier. The soldier stumbled backwards, giving Mark’s protector time to launch another kick and a punch and even tear off the helmet so that it was a fair fight.

Mark didn’t see most of it and was blacking out with each new blink of his heavy eyelids. God he was tired. Exhausted and fading fast.

“Hey man!” The body of the soldier fell to the ground while Mark’s protector came to Mark. He shook him softly and Mark could only see the neon green of his hair and the silly goggles over his eyes. Mark giggled slightly at the goggles, to which the man just looked confused and concerned.

“Can you walk?” The guy asked as he took off his goggles. Mark didn’t know or respond, but was still helped up and began to limp to a nearby car. The guy helped Mark inside and began to drive away.

“I’m fine…I can walk,” Mark finally whispered out. The guy to his left chuckled and just continued to drive. Mark couldn’t stay awake and was beginning to fade.

“You’re bleeding, maybe dying,” the guy said as his face dropped from a smile to dead seriousness. “Just rest.”

Mark, with one last grumble, obeyed and let his heavy eyelids fall.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this and have a nice day! Maybe the next part will come out soon as well, if I can find the time.
> 
> My updates aren't usually like this, it's just currently spring break.


End file.
